


The Duck Inn

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve shows the team just how much he can eat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Duck Inn

“…And that, my friends, is all you’re getting.”

Tony flashed his media smile at the cameras. The reporters kept yelling questions, but the Avengers ignored them as they swept off the stage.

Clint shook his head. “I guess the media sharks are just as blood-thirsty in England.”

Coulson snorted.

The Avengers and Coulson, who had only recently finished his long recuperation after being attacked by Loki, were in Redditch, England on a long, tiring mission. They had been helping MI6 round up some rogue mutants, and the publicity was huge. Thankfully they had Tony Stark as their informal media handler. 

They walked mostly in silence, Natasha’s hisses and whispered death threats as Clint repeatedly poked in her side the only sound.   
It was Steve who broke the silence, in a predictable way. “Can we eat soon?” Coulson immediately started looking up restaurants on his phone to recommend to the group, but Tony beat him to it. 

“I’ve heard of one,” he declared with a wicked grin. “They have a dish that I think Steve will love. It’s called the Duck Inn. It’s infamous.”

Steve protested, “I don’t know, I don’t really go for duck….”

Bruce, however, was looking over Tony’s shoulder at the phone in his hands. He raised his eyebrows and slowly smiled. “I agree with Tony. Let’s try it,” he said.

Steve reluctantly agreed. Bruce, at least, was trustworthy.

Coulson didn’t seem as sure. “What do you mean, it’s infamous?” he asked, eyeing Tony with narrowed eyes.

Tony only grinned widely. That did not reassure anybody but Bruce.

It was after eight o’clock, far past dinner, but when the restaurant staff saw who they were, they let the Avengers inside. They ended up seated in the Duck Inn, menus in their hands. Steve and the rest of the team finally understood Tony’s insistence on eating there. Featured on the menu was an advertisement for a steak that weighed one hundred and fifty ounces, free to anybody who could eat the entire thing in one sitting. No one had yet accomplished it.

Steve blinked. He looked at Tony. He looked back at his menu. Then he called the waiter over and ordered the hundred and fifty-ounce steak.

Part of the deal was that the manager of the restaurant watched as the diner ate the steak. He took one look at Steve and scoffed. He didn’t look as if he thought anybody would be able to eat the whole thing. The Avengers exchanged grins.

The steak was brought to the table. It was alone on its plate, with only sauce on the side. Staff peeked out of the kitchen door. Steve picked up his silverware. And the game was on.

Steve ate steadily, and the steak was slowly but surely vanishing. The rest of the team finished their meals and sat back to watch. Half the steak was gone, then two-thirds. The manager’s eyebrows raised higher and higher. Steve still ate.

An hour later, a fork and a knife clattered onto an empty plate. The manager’s eyes were wide. The restaurant’s staff were crowded around the table, having abandoned all stealth. The Avengers burst into applause.

Steve let out a loud burp. He seemed surprised by the sound. The manager disappeared and came back a moment later with a steak-less bill.

“What’s your name, son?”

Steve grinned lazily. “Captain Steve Rogers, sir. At your service. Although, not right now. I’m…really full.” He seemed surprised at this, too. He hadn’t felt this stuffed since before he was injected with the super-soldier serum and his metabolism had sped up to four times of the normal human rate.

The manager frowned. “I know I’ve heard that name somewhere….”

A young, pimply bus boy piped up. “He’s Captain America, sir.”

The manager stood still, momentarily shocked. Then he chuckled. “Isn’t that ironic? Captain America wins an English contest!”

Coulson winced. That sounded bad, and very culturally insensitive. Maybe they shouldn’t have come here. But the manager only ambled off, still chuckling. The staff, looking much more shocked, followed him.

They stayed the night in Redditch, England, planning to fly back to the United States in the morning. Tony would not stop grinning. Steve found that he didn’t mind. That steak had been delicious. It had been so filling that Steve didn’t even partake of his usual bedtime snack that night, which generally consisted of several pieces of toast with eggs or meat and cheese, along with an apple or a banana. He was quite content.

In the morning, as Steve prepared his usual hefty breakfast (he was once again very hungry – unfortunately a large meal didn’t go a long way) in the little kitchenette of their hotel suite, Coulson approached him. He shifted from foot to foot, looking awkward and uncomfortable. Steve raised his eyebrows at the normally unruffled agent. “Something wrong?”

Coulson pressed his lips together, making them turn white for a moment. “Yes, actually…Captain Rogers, do you feel as if we, at SHIELD, feed you enough?”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again. He hadn’t been expecting that. He studied Coulson carefully. The other man’s brows were furrowed. He looked genuinely concerned, even worried at the possibility that his idol and now charge was not being treated properly. 

“The food at SHIELD is sufficient, sir,” Steve carefully replied.

Coulson’s face crumpled to a frown, which he had been carefully holding back before. Steve opened his mouth to try and make him feel better, but Coulson spoke first. “I’ll make sure you get plenty of food. I can’t promise nine-pound steaks every day,” Coulson smiled wryly, “but we can definitely swing more rations for you.”

Steve smiled and reached out a hand to Coulson, who shook it. “It’s a deal,” he said. “I’d be very grateful for it, Agent Coulson.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am also on tumblr as thealientourist.


End file.
